Luke: "Do you ever even listen to me anymore?" You ask Luke, anger making your voice rise with each word. For weeks now, you felt like his last priority. You understood that the band would come before you, but soon, even something as simple as watching television seemed to be more important to him than you, his girlfriend. "Mmhm," He mumbled, his eyes never leaving his phone. You seethed, your body practically shaking from anger. You ripped his phone from his hands, throwing it against a wall. "What the hell?" Luke yelled, standing up to face you. "Maybe I should just leave for a couple days. A damn phone is more important than I am.” You tell him, grabbing your coat and making your way to the door of your shared apartment. He reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to him forcefully. “Luke, I-” You began to say, but his lips were on yours before you could even finish your protest. You dropped your coat on the floor willingly as his hands left your wrists and moved to you waist, slowly moving you backwards towards the bedroom as you gave into him completely.
Calum: "Do you have any idea what you could have done? You could have destroyed my reputation? The band’s reputation? What were you thinking?” He seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were white as he drove you back home. You stayed silent, turning to look out the window as you sobered up. He brought you to a company party, and unfortunately, you had too many drinks. One thing led to another, and the next thing you knew, Calum was carrying you out of the party with your body thrown over his shoulder, madder than you’ve ever seen him. “I don’t know-” You began to say, but he cut you off. “Oh, so you don’t know?” He scoffed, anger in his condescending chuckle. “Well I’m sorry if I’m tired of everything being about you!” You yelled at him, anger swelling in your chest. “It’s always all about Calum! What Calum wants! What Calum needs! It’s never about me, about us!"He slams on the breaks, pulling off of the road. "Fine. Want it to be all about you?" He growls, grabbing the back of your head and yanking your lips to his. "It’s all about you tonight," He breathes against your lips as he undoes your seat belt and pulls you into his lap, hitching your dress around your waist. You could get used to this.
Ashton: "I’m sorry, (Y/N)." Ashton told you, reaching out to grab your hand. You swatted his away, clenching your teeth as you looked away from him on the other side of the couch. "(Y/N), I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I’m so, so sorry.” He begged you, reaching for your hand again. Instead of pushing it away, you just stood up, calmly walking to your room as you tried so hard to keep the tears inside. You two were arguing, and tonight, he delivered a low blow. You trusted him with your past, your secrets. But tonight, he twisted it against you, calling you a name that you were bullied with so often when you were still in school. You told him so he would understand you, not use it against you. He caught up with you once you reached the bedroom door, grabbing your elbow lightly and turning you around. “I didn’t mean it. Please forgive me. Please. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry.” He whispered, reaching up to cup your face with his hands. He used his fingers to brush away your escaped tears, kissing your cheeks, your neck, your jaw; everything. “Please forgive me,” He whispered against your skin, and his lips were on yours before you could even finish saying “yes”.
Michael: "Michael, look!" You said excitedly as you walked into your apartment after a hard day of work, holding up a canvas you bought on the way home. It matched the living room perfectly, and you’ve always been an artsy girl. But when he saw it, he just rolled his eyes. "Oh, so cool.” He said sarcastically, and your smile faltered. You knew his taste in art wasn’t the same as yours, but it was his sarcasm that was bothering you. “I get you might not like it, but you don’t have to be an asshole about it,” You mumbled, setting the canvas down against the wall. “Of course, because I’m always the one who’s the asshole.” He says, standing up from the couch. “I’m getting really tired of your sarcasm, Michael. It actually really hurts my feelings.” You tell him, your bottom lip quivering and your voice shaky. You knew when you fell in love with him that he was a sarcastic person, but lately, he’s been being a bit rude about it. “How ironic. You said that’s the reason you fell in love with me.” He said. You turned on your heel and left the room, tears beginning to fall. “(Y/N), wait. (Y/N)!” He called, chasing after you. “Leave me alone,” You mumbled when he grabbed your arm, spinning you to face him. “Hey, I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.” He says softly, pressing his lips to yours. After awhile, you gave in, finally kissing him back.
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